Today I have the day off of work for Martin Luther King Jr. Day. I’m using it to, among other things (like watching Obama’s second inaugural address), go through my important legal documents and make sure that I have everything I need for the move in one safe place. This means the deed to my house. My divorce. The title to my car. My passport.
Going through my file cabinet is odd. It was half-populated during my drunk days. Half by my ex-wife. Half during sobriety. But I never actually went through and cleaned it out. Even in sobriety, official paperwork frightens and confuses me. I’m not good at administrative things. But some things simply have to be handled correctly. I have a deed and associated quit-claim to my house. I need to have those things, so that when I sell the house, I can do so legally and correctly. I have to have those things. There’s no other option. If I want to travel abroad, I have to have my passport. If I want to sell my car, I have to have its title.
The gift of sobriety is that I have is that I can look dead-on into the face of my fears and discover that they have only the power that I give them.